


The Eighty-eighth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Series: The Senad Sentinel Tidbits Files by Many and Varied [88]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Senslash Fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist





	The Eighty-eighth Sentinel Tidbits File by Many and Varied

## The Eighty-eighth Sentinel Tidbits File

by Many and Varied

Author's disclaimer: The Sentinel and its universe don't belong to me or to those who wrote the tidbits. So, the usual "no infringement, no money being made, etc." applies. I think we all know that one! Also, I didn't write anything in this particular file, all I did was put 'em together.  


* * *

Rating: the whole range  
Pairings: J/B (mostly!) 

* * *

Tidbit #1  
ObSenad 

Blair lay his back on top of his sleeping bag, hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the bright stage of shimmering lights. Jim lay on the other side of the fire, a book propped on his chest, deeply engrossed in Jack Ryan's latest adventure. 

The two of them had decided to take a couple of extra days over the Memorial Day holiday and had headed up to their favorite camping spot. They'd gotten in some great fishing, and now, on their last night, were relaxing in companionable silence. 

Blair finally tore his gaze away from the sky and looked over at his partner. 

"Hey, Jim?" 

"Ummm?" 

"Why aren't you here with Tracey? You could be here with a gorgeous redhead. And she would have said yes. In a New York minute." 

Ellison put the book down, turned over on his side, rested his head on his hand and stared back over the flickering flames at his camping mate. He'd been trying to pick a time all weekend to tell Sandburg something, but had chickened out each time an opportunity presented itself. Looked like he was being given one last chance. 

"I _am_ here with a gorgeous redhead." 

He watched the frown spread across "the redhead's" face. Then watched as Blair sat up, crossed his legs, and finally smiled. 

"Yeah, right, Ellison. Naomi's in Africa, on safari. You're stuck here with me." 

"Yep. My favorite redhead. Okay, technically, brunette. But right now? With the fire dancing over your hair? Redhead. Definitely." 

The frown came back. Lips clamped shut. Then opened. Then shut. Then opened. "Jim, you get too much sun? Or not enough fish?" 

"Neither. Just being honest. You asked, I answered. I'm with the one person I want to be with, anywhere. No other person, man or woman. Just you. Blair Sandburg. Scary, huh?" 

"Well, from a physical point of view, yeah. I'm sure you've noticed, I'm a man." 

"That fact hadn't escaped me in the slightest. You are still exactly what I want. And the "man" part I find especially nice." 

One hand rubbed a youthful jaw, eyes closing, then, "So. You trying to tell me something here, Jim? In your, oh so subtle way?" 

"Yep." 

Blair got up and wandered over to Jim's side of the fire, Jim following his entire progress. Finally Blair stood over his Sentinel. "I've never been very subtle. See no reason to start now." 

And he began to undress. Slowly. 

* * *

Hey, this is only an ObSenad! Use your imaginations! 

allison  


* * *

Tidbit #2 

Rafe and Henry sat back at the table, smiling at what they saw. For one of the first times ever, Blair Sandburg sat across from them, stunned and totally speechless. 

"What?" he stammered. "What are you saying, Jim?" 

The large detective sat next to his partner, and very matter of factly stated, "I said that I think we _should_ have kids." Jim knew he was throwing his lover for a loop, and was totally enjoying himself. 

Rafe was the first to break the silence. "So, um, not to get too personal, but how would you guys do this? Would it be yours, Jim? Or Blair, yours?" 

Henry Brown was now staring at Rafe, wondering how he got suckered into this universe. Obviously the dinner had derailed somewhere about five minutes previous. And this was one train he wasn't sure he wanted to be on. 

Before the couple could answer, Rafe continued. "Oh, I know! Once you guys find someone to carry the baby, maybe you would both go in on it together." An easy smile crossed his handsome face. "You know, kind of like putting it in a blender on puree, then load up the turkey baster-" 

Blair finally spoke, his jaw firmly back in place from where it had been resting on the floor. "No, no, no, no, no, no. It's either his or mine. No mingling of juices. That would be _too_ weird." 

A puzzled look made it's way across Jim's face. "What? What's wrong with that idea? Unless of course, you'd like to carry the baby yourself, Chief." A grin displayed itself beautifully, and the blue of his eyes danced across to his partner. 

"Are you kidding?" Blair asked, and incredulous tone to his voice. "You know, even with the strives in science and medical breakthroughs aside, do you even know what a woman goes through? All those hormonal changes. Everything they have to put up with for nine months? No way, man. No way." 

The smile on Jim's face was replaced quickly by a fake pout, causing the other detectives to smile. As he tried to respond, digging Blair deeper and deeper, he was cut off by a now flustered Blair. 

"Ain't no way, no how, no sir." Blair began to pick at his food, pausing a second for the others to do the same before he started in again. "Besides, you're forgetting the main point, man." 

As the other men munched, not taking the bait, Henry stopped mid way in picking up his drink. Leaning in inquisitively, he asked, "And that would be?" He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a nice draw from it. 

Blair cleared his throat and declared quietly to the three men accompanying him at the table, "Butt babies don't live." 

And every occupant of the restaurant turned as three grown men began choking on their food and drinks, as the man with the beautiful long, curly hair laughed as he'd never laughed before. 

Walter H. Hopgood  


* * *

Tidbit #3  
ObSenad 

The bath water was getting cold. Blair figured Jim would be the first to have his comfort level tested. Then again, he was a tough old fart. 

Speaking of old farts, another cluster of unhatched bubbles, iridescent in the candlelight, punctuated the surface of the otherwise placid water. 

"Christ, Jim, " Blair admonished. 

"Sorry," Jim mumbled. 

Still, neither moved. They must have taken a hundred baths together before finally settling into this perfect position, Blair's back pressed into Jim's chest, Jim's inner thighs framing the hard conjoin on either side of his lover's pelvis, both pairs of arms free to hug, both pairs of hands free to explore. And now that they'd finally found this perfect position, Blair was leaving. Sensing that Jim was about to launch into another attempt to talk him out of it, Blair offered a pre-emptive strike of his own, and said, for the hundredth time: "It's only for 3 months. One season. A summer, then wee-ha! I'm back." 

"It's not just that I'll miss you...it's too dangerous..." 

"Jim, we've been through this. I've gone undercover in a prison before. In fact, I've had more experience than you..." 

"Yes, and if you'll recall, Chief, you were terrified..." 

"But I know what I'm doing, this time. Besides, I'm practically a cop. And Tim McManus is my friend. I can't let him down." 

"What kind of friend recruits a civilian to pose as a convict just so he can study the effects of his own so-called prison reform theories? He's using you as a guinea pig." 

"He's a well-respected corrections activist whose theories may someday end the hopeless cycle of recidivism. Emerald City is a model for the future of the rehabilitation industry, if you will. Anyway, he didn't recruit me. I volunteered. I WANT to do this, Jim. I'm an anthropologist. And a researcher. " 

"I thought you were a cop." 

"Practically a cop. Jim, let's not fight anymore." 

"We're not fighting," Jim sighed. "Mme. Water's cold." 

"You want to get out?" Blair asked. 

"I can take it if you can." 

"I can take it. Maybe another...10 minutes. That candle's still burning. Let's see if we can outlast it." 

"That's what I like about you, Sandburg. You're goal-oriented." 

They both sighed, and sank even deeper into each other. 

Jim decided to tell Blair later that there was no way he was letting him go to Oz alone. Maybe Blair's friend McManus could pull strings and get the guide into Oswald Maximum Security prison - but Jim had friends in the rehabilitation industry who were equally skilled at pulling strings. 

Now, speaking of pulling... 

ratgirl kinski  


* * *

Tidbit #4 

Continued from previous ObSenad: Tidbit #1, this file. 

<<Blair began to undress. Slowly.>>

Jim's mouth fell open. 

Okay, he'd certainly hoped Blair might feel some of the same emotions Jim had been feeling, but this? Way more than expected. Way more. But he wasn't going to complain, nope, not him. Not the Sentinel of the Great City. Not with Blair standing over him, legs parted, eyes glued to his, fingers s~l~o~w~l~y unbuttoning the shirt...firelight dancing across his features, intensifying his obvious arousal, lips slightly parted, tongue just skimming the bottom lip...nope, not going to complain one bit. 

Might want to hurry up the process a bit, Yeah, hurry it up. Like, who needs to actually unbutton? 

Jim scrambled to his feet and reached out for the shirt, but Blair was quicker and jumped back, out of reach. Jim stopped. Eyes narrowed, shoulders hunched forward, looking every bit like a linebacker, ready to dump the quarterback...okay, maybe a linebacker ready to fuck the quarterback. 

Blair squinted right back at him, his devilish grin daring Jim to make a move. 

Jim moved. Fast. 

allison  


* * *

Tidbit #5 

I'm feeling brave today, so here goes: 

"Hey Chief," Jim said as he came down the stairs, "Let me know when you're done with the computer. I need to check my e-mail." 

"Hmmm?" Blair looked up from his book. "I'm done. You can have it." 

"Are you sure? This looks like serious work." 

"Nah. That's my new screen saver." 

"What was wrong with the stalking panther? I liked it!" 

Blair laughed. He stood and stretched, went to the computer and sat down. "Jim, this is SETI at Home." 

"Seti?" Jim came to stand behind his lover. 

"Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence." 

"Like that Jodie Foster movie." Jim absently ran his fingers through Blair's curls. "So what's it do?" 

"SETI collects way more information than they have computer time to analyze. Rather than building bigger, more expensive systems, they decided to use existing systems when no-one else is." Blair launched into full lecture mode. "There are millions of small computer systems and PCs sitting idle every day. Tapping into this provides a huge amount of computing power. When you sign up, SETI downloads a small packet of raw data. When your computer is resting, instead of showing pretty pictures, it compiles the data, looking for non-random patterns." Blair tilted his head forward as Jim gently massaged his neck. "When the data is compiled, the program automatically calls SETI, sends the compiled data, and downloads a new packet. Hundreds of thousands of computers world wide are compiling this stuff..." Blair trailed off. 

"So, we're just doing our part for science?" Jim asked as he nibbled on Blair's neck. 

"Oh, yeah," Blair sighed. "If your computer is the one that finds ET you get official credit, a...ahhh...shot at...immortality..." Jim's hands slid down Blair's chest, unbuttoning his shirt as they went. 

"Umm, Jim?" Blair gasped. "E-mail?" 

"Later, Chief." Jim gently teased Blair's nipples. "My data is compiled. Right now I have a packet I really need to download." 

Author's Note: If you want more information on SETI at Home go to <http://setiathome.ssl.berkeley.edu>

Thanks, 

Griffin  


* * *

Tidbit #6 

**FAIR WARNING: BATHROOM HUMOUR**

Jim was startled out of a quiet contemplation of his knees when Blair breezed into the bathroom and started up the shower. 

"Jesus, Sandburg! I'm busy here!" Ellison groused, trying to arrange his shirt-tails into some semblance of modesty. 

Blair shucked off his boxers and t-shirt and tested the water. "Like anyone needs Sentinel senses to figure that out. Hell, 207 can probably figure that out." 

Jim gritted his teeth. "Thank-you so much, Mr. Manners. You know, there used to be a thing around here called privacy, Chief. Door's closed, you knock, I say take off...!" 

Blair leaned down and kissed the top of the older man's head on his way into the shower. "Yeah, well, we used to sleep in separate beds and keep our faces out of one another's groins, too. Things change." 

"Says who?" Ellison complained. "When was this decided? When did we have this meeting? Why wasn't I consulted in this policy change?" 

"Look, man, you've been in here twenty minutes. I've got a meeting to get to, and I'd prefer it if I weren't still wet behind the ears when I go into it," Blair called out over the sound of the water. "Besides, what's the big deal? It's a normal human function. I've been around for about every other one you've had, and," he added, peering out around the shower curtain at the sour-faced detective, "it's not like that's anything new to me, man." 

"I just like to have my functions sorted out situationally," Jim grumbled, finishing up and going to wash his hands. "And I swear to God, Chief, if you make one 'anal retentive' crack, I'll hold you under the spray!" 

A loud snort came echoing from behind the curtain. "Man, there are, like, so many avenues to explore with that. Do I start with the fact you think there'd be only ~one~ remark about anal retentiveness, or do I point out you used 'anal' and 'crack' in the same sentence?" 

Jim made a rude gesture at the curtain, just as Blair leaned out to grin at him. Ellison gave up after about a thirty seconds of glowering and leaned in to kiss the younger man's unrepentant face. "Sandburg, you're weird and annoying and I love you." 

"Ditto, man," Blair said before disappearing back into the shower. Jim waited, counted three, and then flushed the toilet. He didn't need Sentinel senses at all to hear Sandburg hollering. He poured himself a coffee in his thermal mug, and headed off to work, whistling blithely. 

**END OBSENAD**

Brighid  


* * *

Tidbit #7 

Author's Note: These discussions are almost predictable now. And seem to get longer when the guys aren't on. It's all Jim and Blair's fault. No doubt. 

I can see Blair now, pencil stuck behind his ear, tongue out, schlumped over his laptop and making his graph. 

Step 1: Topic is discussed.  
Step 2: Topic gets heated  
Step 3: Someone mentions someone else's name and or story in a derogatory manner and can't spell derogatory. Step 4: Someone else gets really heated and flames Step 5: The Great LOC debate begins  
Step 6: The Freedom of Speech debate begins Step 7: The "Protect the Writer" vs. "Writer Can stand on Own Two Feet" debate begins  
Step 8: The "Too Many Warnings" vs. "Protect the Reader" debate begins  
Step 1a, 2a, 3a, 4a, 5a, 6a, 7a, 8a: The "If you don't like it, delete it" debate is ongoing. 

Relatively new step: 

Step 9: The Private Email Debate: Succinctly put involves: 

  1. A group of listsibs who believe their email, once sent, is private and listmom has no right to read it without their permission 
  2. A group of listsibs who believe their email is no longer theirs once they hit send. That the TO: person now owns said email and can share said email with whomever. 



So my question to all senadians:  
Blair and Jim read the above Blairgraph. Where do they fall? 

My answer: 

Jim says, "I'm the Sentinel of the Great City and as such, it's my job to protect and serve. I do this by "Overhearing" private conversations, by "Seeing" what others can't, but wish they could. Like right now, Blair is in the bathroom, showering. I _could_ peek and never get off the couch. I _should_ peek, showering is dangerous. He could, um, er, slip, or accidently go down the drain, yes, I really should peek." (Jim off to peek at Blair showering - to heck with protect and serve, he has a gorgeous nekkid body to spy on) 

Blair says, "Well, I'm the Shaman of the Great City, although the writers in season four chose to forget that, the dipsticks, but anyway, as such, I feel it is my duty to assist the harassed, the badly flamed, to protect as best I can, to make sure if Jim sees something, like the quarterback, in the apartment across the entire length of the city, undressing and working out in the nude, that I put my foot down, right where it hurts, and remind him....ooops. Sorry, got a little carried away, where was I? Oh, yeah, Shaman shit. Anyway, I say, be nice to each other, discuss happily, keep the personal crap to yourself, share your likes and dislikes, and be conscious of how words on the net can appear larger than they really are...or is that your rear view mirror? Same diff. And remember, unless you have a voice doohickey, no one knows what you really mean. And speaking of hickeys.....Blair off to get one and give one, or two, or three..... 

Next? 

allison 


End file.
